Black Water
by misssekhmet
Summary: Caroline's lost her memory and ends up in New Orleans. What happened to her? And what will happen next? (Shamelessly ignoring the existence of a magical baby.)
1. Prologue: The Note

_AN: Standard disclaimer. I do not own the characters or the universe. _

_I am entirely ignoring canon after TVD5x11 on this one, people, and basically anything that happens in TO, even before that. Basically, there's no baby, and no Hayley. For anything else, you're going to have to read on and see what happens!_

* * *

There was no name at the top of the letter.

_If all goes as expected, you'll wake up on a bus with no idea how you got there. You won't know your name or where you're from. You won't remember writing this. _

_Know that this is a good thing. This is the plan. _

_You are in danger, and you have to run. Run, and don't look back. _

_Keep moving. Don't stay in any one place for too long. If you hear the name 'Augustine', run. If someone recognizes you, run. You have no friends and no family that can help you. Make your own way in the world. No one in your past can find you. _

_Run. Keep running. Don't look back. _

_And whatever else, stay the hell out of Virginia. _

_C.E.F._

* * *

_AN: This is just a prologue, obviously. And yes, I know this trope has been done before, but I wanted to give it a shot for myself. I haven't finished writing it all out, but have at least some of it done. Hopefully it won't take too long to finish up and publish._


	2. The Party

_AN: Standard disclaimer here! I do not own these characters, or the universe._

* * *

The blonde drew a deep breath in through her nose, scenting the crowd which was congregated at the bar. Most were human, of course, but a handful had a scent which was slightly colder, more astringent. Vampires. The strongest scent was coming from the muscular black guy sitting by the window; he was presumably the oldest, then.

Over her years on the run, she'd figured out the system. Go to a new city, find the oldest vampire you could, and ask if there were any rules she'd need to follow if she wanted to stay for a while. Keep her head down for six months or so. Work as a photographer, or a bartender, or - on one very memorable occasion - a lounge singer. Then pack up and move on. Don't say goodbye. Don't leave a forwarding address. Don't look back. It wasn't the best life, or the most stable, but so far she had been safe. She had kept running.

She took a fortifying breath and plastered a smile onto her face as she initiated step one of her plan and approached the vampire she'd identified a moment before. "Care for a drink?"

The man looked her over slowly, taking in her long legs, fashionable outfit, and perfectly styled hair. "As sweet as your offer is, it's not necessary," he said with a wide, toothy grin. "But please, have a seat. I'll get the first round while you tell me what brings you to the Crescent City, miss…"

"Charlotte," she answered with a smile of her own. "Charlotte Forrester. But please, you can call me Charlie."

"Marcel Gerard," the man said in response, tipping his head gallantly as she took the seat across from him. A waitress brought by two drinks and dropped them in front of them. "And what is it that brings you here, Charlie?"

She shrugged one shoulder and took a sip from her drink. "I've been traveling through the South for a while, and it was time to move on from my last place. No real reason for choosing New Orleans, other than I like cities, and places where I'm… not the only one of our kind." Her blue eyes cut to his. "Is there anyone that I need to talk to about staying here for a bit?"

Marcel smirked at her and raised his glass to hers. "You already are, chere."

Charlie huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes. "Seriously? Well, that was way easier than in Atlanta. Thank God."

He groaned in sympathy and chuckled. "Georgia is such a mess these days. I have to warn you, we're much more strict here than they are. No feeding on the locals, no killing the tourists, no leaving memories of your feeding, and you have to heal them afterwards. If you prefer blood bags, let me know. I have a distribution pipeline set up. We can't have every vamp in this city raiding the blood banks every day."

She nodded her head sharply. "Got it. Snatch, eat, heal, erase. Locals are not on the menu. If I ever feel like drinking it from a bag, I'll let you know," she finished with a wrinkled nose.

Marcel continued with his instructions. "Stay out of the bayou; there are werewolves out that way. Lafayette Cemetery is the witches' territory, so it's off limits as well. We won't kill you for going there, but they will." He hesitated for a moment. "And, since you're a daywalker, you'll have to owe… _the community_ a couple of favors." He shrugged and spread his hands as if helpless in the matter.

Charlie nodded again, but more hesitantly this time. "Okay, sure. Why do I get the feeling that you already have something in mind?"

Marcel leaned across the table with a wide grin on his face. "Would you say that you're a decent actress, Miss Forrester?"

* * *

Her pupils dilated, capturing the shop attendant's gaze in her thrall. "Hi! I need a dress for a 'Heaven and Hell' party tonight," Charlie told the girl, adding air quotes around the theme.

The worker's eyes glazed over. "A dress for a party? Sure! How formal? And are you from heaven, or hell?"

Charlie paused to consider for a moment. "He didn't mention the dress code. But my date is Hades, and wants me to be his Persephone."

The girl nodded slowly. "I think I have just the thing, then."

After buying the dress, shoes, and purse the shop attendant had selected for her, Charlie went straight to the salon to have her hair and makeup done. She described to the women there what she wanted, and sat back to watch as her vision came together. Her hair was pulled into an elaborate bun at the back of her head, while smokey makeup was applied to her eyes. She couldn't hold back her smirk as she examined her finished look in the mirror. Whoever Marcel wanted to make jealous would be eating their heart out - she looked _damn _good.

Later that night, when she opened the door to her hotel room and found Marcel standing there, his reaction made it clear that he agreed with her assessment. He gave a low whistle as he took in her strappy stilettos, floor-length skirt, and sheer black top. As he glanced at her hair and makeup, he offered her a wide grin and a cocked eyebrow. "Rebekah Mikaelson won't know what hit her." He held his elbow out for her to grab his arm, and she hesitated to reach for it for the briefest moment before laying her hand on his arm. For just a moment, she'd felt a twinge in her gut at his words.

Ignoring it, Charlie moved to straighten his tie. "You don't look so bad yourself," she smiled at him. "But shouldn't Hades be wearing a black suit instead of a charcoal one?"

He rolled his eyes. "Apparently it's somehow a reference to the ashes of the damned, or something. Bekah picked it out."

"Ahh, I see," Charlie giggled. "Very… thematic, your ex." She snatched her pomegranate red purse off the table at the entryway to her room and pulled the door shut.

Marcel nodded, serious. "Just remember what we talked about at the bar. She's dangerous, and I don't want anything unfortunate to happen. I just want to rile her up a bit."

Charlie gave him a broad smile in return. "You're sweet Marcel. Let's go make this Rebekah see what she's missing."

He led her out through the main hotel entrance, making small talk the entire way to his waiting car.

She couldn't help the gasp that left her as they entered the courtyard of the house - mansion, really. There were at least a half-dozen bars set up around the perimeter, each with either a fire breather, contortionist, or hoop dancer standing next to it. And the guests…! The crowd was full of the most elegant and well-dressed people Charlotte had ever seen. She took a discreet sniff and confirmed her suspicion that nearly all of the attendees were supernatural. Most had the slightly astringent scent of vampires, but there were several that had a distinctly herbal smell. Witches, she knew. There was a smaller group that had a slightly different scent - one which she couldn't quite place, but which she _swore _was familiar to her.

Again, her stomach turned over oddly. Nerves, she told herself. After all, how often was she in the midst of such finery?

Charlie glanced at Marcel and saw that he was giving her a soft smile. "Would you like to dance?"

She beamed back at him, shooting him a sultry look from beneath her lashes. "I thought you'd never ask." As he swept her around the dance floor, she allowed her eyes to wander and take in the details of the party. Thankfully, dancing was something she'd seemingly always known. She didn't have to think about it; her body just knew the steps. Before she knew it, the song was over, and Marcel was leading her off the dance floor and complimenting her on her dancing.

Charlie opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by a stunning blonde who appeared in front of her and Marcel. She was wearing a flowing white dress which would have made her look downright angelic, were it not for the snarl across her face. "And what, _exactly_, do you two think you're playing at?" she hissed at them, her arms crossed over her stomach and her eyes narrowed.

"Bekah," Marcel purred, moving his hand to rest on the small of Charlie's back and giving the 'angel' a wide smile. "You broke up with me. I have every right to bring a date." Charlie's heart was pounding at the sight of the woman, and she felt her gut give another twinge. Something wasn't right.

Rebekah shot him a disgusted look, and Charlie smiled weakly at her. "A date, sure," the angry woman sneered. "But not this one! You need to leave, both of you, before -"

"If you're that jealous, Bekah, maybe you shouldn't have -"

"Jealous? You twat, I'm not jealous -"

"Maybe I should go…" Charlie began, but Marcel gripped her arm firmly, just above her elbow. The twinge in her stomach was spreading, shivering up her spine, making her heart pound.

"Why would you go? Bekah doesn't mind if you stay," he sneered at the other woman.

Rebekah scoffed loudly. "It's not me you should be worried about!"

"What, you think your brothers will care that I've moved on? They'll be thrilled!" Marcel's voice was slowly but surely increasing in volume. Charlie tried to inch away from him, shaking her head to try to clear the tinny ringing sound she was hearing in her ears. There was something about the blonde's voice that was bothering her, but she couldn't tell what it was, exactly.

"Yes, I bloody well think Nik will care, considering who you've moved on with!" Rebekah was nearly shrieking now.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Charlie glanced between the other two vampires, both now red-faced from yelling. Marcel was looking furiously at his ex, but Rebekah suddenly caught her gaze and held it, exasperated. "You didn't tell him?"

She stumbled a step back, her eyes widening, as the obvious answer suddenly appeared to her. Rebekah _knew her_. Or, she _had _known her, before. Charlie wrenched her arm from Marcel's grasp as the realization washed over her. She had to escape. She had to _run_. But she knew that Rebekah was an old vampire, from what Marcel had told her earlier. If she just fled, surely her old friend would come after her, right? Were they even friends? Enemies?

Before she could let herself fall down the rabbit hole of wondering how Rebekah knew her past self, Charlie realized that she had to actually exit both the conversation and the party. "I thought I'd let you tell him," she spat at Rebekah, only a beat later than she should have answered.

Rebekah's brow wrinkled in obvious confusion, her eyes still locked on Charlie's widened eyes. She did her best to hold the older vampire's gaze, but angled her body away, towards one of the bars nearest the exit. "But if you're done making a scene, I'll just excuse myself and go -"

Her sentence was cut off as she turned and ran directly into a well-muscled chest. She took in the all-black suit, shirt, and tie before her gaze traveled up to observe the man's face. Bronze curls, strong cheekbones, deep blue eyes, and full raspberry lips which were pulling into a slow smile, revealing a dimple in one cheek met her perusal. The eyes were alight with pleasure as the man grasped her right hand and brought it to his mouth. "It's been a long time, Caroline," he smirked at her, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Her breath caught in her throat. _Caroline_. The name had rolled off his tongue like honey, but it seemed to amplify the ringing in her ears exponentially. _Caroline, Caroline, Caroline…_ It echoed through her mind, in his voice, and she felt her breathing become erratic.

"Caroline, sweetheart?" The man was frowning at her, and her vision was suddenly going black and fuzzy at the edges.

Charlie struggled to control her breathing. These people _knew her_. They knew her from _before_. More words were suddenly echoing in her head. _Caroline, Caroline, Caroline._ A growl, a gasp, a broken whisper, all in his voice. _No one from your past can find you_, a different voice whispered to her. _Caroline_. Him again, this time a sigh.

"She told me her name was Charlie," she heard Marcel say uneasily as she swayed on the spot, her vision tunneling until she could only see a pinprick of the man's blue eyes. "Charlotte Forrester."

"No," the man in front of her said, narrowing his eyes at her. "Her name is Caroline Forbes."

She collapsed.


	3. The Explanation

_Caroline. Caroline. Her name is Caroline Forbes._

She woke fully all at once, drawing in air in a gasp and sitting fully upright in the bed. Her heart was beating wildly. Her eyes flit over the room, cataloguing her surroundings. Ridiculously large bed. Buttery soft sheets. Obviously well-made and expensive furniture. A painting of a landscape over the dresser. A wooden door, left open to reveal an en suite bathroom, and two more which were closed. One presumably led to a hallway, and the other to the closet.

Most importantly, though, were the two large windows and the set of French doors leading to the outside. A balcony. Charlie breathed a small sigh of relief. She'd found her exit.

The voices she remembered from last night rang through her mind again. _Caroline_, the man's voice growled. _No one from your past can find you_, the other voice replied. A woman's voice, she realized with a start. Warm, soft, comforting. Charlie shook her head firmly. There wasn't _time _for those kinds of thoughts now. Maybe not ever.

Now she had to run. Run, keep running. Don't look back.

Charlie continued her assessment of her situation. She was still wearing the same gown from the night before, and she couldn't decide if it was a good thing or not. At least she had clothes, and she spotted her shoes on the floor next to one of the wooden doors. Probably the one leading to the closet, she decided. And they hadn't taken her daylight ring. She rolled her eyes at the stupidity of her captors.

Although, if they were her old friends, she supposed they wouldn't think to treat her as a prisoner.

She focused her hearing on the rest of the house. A woman, walking in heels. A newspaper rustling. A soft, swishing noise she didn't recognize.

The footsteps paused. "Did you hear something from Caroline's room?" Charlie winced at the sound of Rebekah's question.

Not Caroline, she thought. Run. Don't look back.

She edged towards the side of the bed, preparing to run. She could grab her shoes, open the balcony door, and… well, she could figure it out from there. Four steps to her shoes, and then six to the French doors.

"I heard her breathing," a new voice, male, was responding to Rebekah. "But that is only to be expected."

She should go now. They thought she was asleep.

Charlie smirked to herself and flung the covers back, dashing across the room to grab her shoes. The sheets hadn't even fallen back to rest on the mattress again when she scooped up her heels and turned towards the balcony. But even moving as fast as her vampire-speed allowed, she had only taken two steps towards the French doors when the wooden door she had decided led to the rest of the house flew open. It slammed into the wall with enough force to crack both the wall and the door. Her next step faltered slightly as she took in the sight of the man from last night, looming in the doorway. His eyes were _glowing_, a luminous golden color, and he looked both ferocious and furious.

She wrenched her face away from the sight. Don't look back. Don't look back. _Don't look back._ Charlie made it two more steps before an iron grip clenched around her bicep, whipping her around. His other hand came up to grab her free arm, jerking her to a stop. The rough treatment sent pins flying from her hair, and she squirmed in his tight grasp. "Let me go!" she yelled. "You're hurting me!"

The grip on her arms immediately loosened, but not enough for her to get away. She heard the man give a soft chuckle, which surprised her so much that she glanced up to look at him. The look of fury was gone, replaced by one of tenderness and amusement. "Just where do you think you're going, love?" he purred, smirking at her.

Her breath caught in her throat and she let her eyes drift closed as she rushed to process what she knew. This man didn't want to hurt her. He clearly cared for her. From what Rebekah had said the night before, that had to mean that this was her brother, right? Nik?

She couldn't risk using the name if she wasn't _sure_. But she knew that he cared for her, which meant he'd want to believe whatever she told him. Charlie just had to make it believable enough. She opened her eyes, again looking up at him through her lashes. "Back to the hotel. I need my things." She gestured towards the long gown she was still wearing.

His smirk morphed into a studious frown. "You were fleeing while we thought you were sleeping because you needed a change of clothes? You know we've plenty for you to borrow here. Rebekah's entire closet, if you so desire."

She hesitated before replying. "Well, Rebekah didn't seem to want me around last night." She added a shrug for good measure, continuing to try to loosen his grip on her arms.

His frown deepened. "She didn't want to start a fight with Marcel, sweetheart. I know there's no love lost between you and my sister, but believe me when I say that it had nothing to do with you. Besides, it's my bloody house, and you know that I would want you to stay."

Charlie ducked her head and shrugged again. His sister, he'd said. So he _was _the brother, Nik. Good to know. Nik Mikaelson. The name seemed… not quite right for him, but she mentally shook that thought off.

She had to focus on getting out of the house; then she could get the hell away from New Orleans. When she looked back up, she saw that Nik was staring at her with clear concern in his eyes.

"Why the cloak and dagger routine, Caroline? Giving Marcel a false name? If you're in New Orleans, why not come directly to me?"

Nik really did care about her - or had cared about Caroline, at least. Charlie registered a flicker of unease deep in her stomach and forced herself to ignore the shiver traveling up her spine when he said that name. She had to get away from here, now. She should have been gone five minutes ago.

Charlie forced her face into a sheepish expression, closing her eyes briefly to let out a small sigh. "It's a really long story," she began shaking her head.

He chuckled and released her arms, and she could feel him shifting a half-step away from her. "Of course it is, sweetheart. When is it not, with you?"

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. "Let me go to the hotel and get changed and cleaned up, and then I'll come back and tell you the whole story."

Nik nodded at her and took her hand in his own and smiled at her, all charm. "If you wish, love. And of course, you're more than welcome to collect your things and stay here." He led her out the door and down a short hallway towards an internal balcony. They were overlooking the courtyard from last night, she realized.

Charlie nodded her head slowly after pretending to think about his offer. "That sounds nice." She offered him a wide smile. "Thank you."

He smiled at her then, the same smile he'd given her last night, a dimple appearing in his cheek. "I'll have a bottle of champagne chilled for your return, Caroline. It is truly wonderful to see you again."

She feigned bashfulness, once again looking up at him through her lashes, and once again suppressing a shudder. "It's nice to see you, too, Nik," she breathed.

Nik's smile widened, but his eyes narrowed.

Before she could even process that they had moved, he had her pressed back against the wall with his hand wrapped around her throat. Golden irises shone at her, causing her heart to stutter in fear. He had veins descending from his eyes like any other vampire, but his _eyes_… "Who are you?" he shouted into her face, giving her a glimpse of the double set of fangs in his mouth. Charlie's breath caught as he lifted her so that her toes were barely touching the ground. "What have you done to my Caroline?"

There was a frozen moment, when her heart stuttered again. And for a second, she was seeing double. She could see him, standing in front of her screaming.

"_There's so much to be afraid of, isn't there?" He slammed her back, his hand pressing against her throat, her hair tumbling about her face. "Like what I'll do to you if your friend Bonnie doesn't come out of hiding. Where is she?" _

"_Silas," she whimpered. _

"_WHERE IS SHE?" He had a stake in his hand, he was going to stake her, he was going to kill her!_

And then, it was over. She was back in the present, watching with wide eyes as he glared at her silently.

Nik pulled her away from the wall a scant inch, doubtless preparing to slam her into it again, when she saw a blur of motion from the corner of her eye. A different man, a vampire wearing a tailored suit, slammed into Nik and pinned him to the opposite wall. Charlie fell to her knees and sucked in a breath. She had to get out of there while they were fighting.

"Niklaus!" the suited vampire admonished, "Have you lost your mind?"

"Bekah, stop her!" Nik bellowed as he noticed her getting to her feet, preparing to bolt. "She is an _imposter_!"

Charlie sighed as Rebekah grabbed her by the elbow, preventing her escape. She pulled at her arm, but the other vampire's grip was like a vise.

"I at first thought that she was acting under duress," Nik explained to the suited man, whose grip was visibly loosening. "I had planned to follow her, but then she called me 'Nik'." The suit harrumphed and offered Nik a hand up, but he ignored it and hauled himself off the ground before sending her a glare.

Charlie rolled her eyes, and tried to tug her arm from Rebekah's grip, one last-ditch attempt to run. The other blonde simply scoffed and jerked her around so they were facing each other. "Stop trying to run," Rebekah commanded, her pupils dilating as she captured Charlie's gaze.

Her feet rooted themselves to the floor of their own accord, and Charlie gaped at the other blonde in shock. "How…" she breathed, entirely confused. "But, I'm a vampire! You… how did you…?"

"Definitely not Miss Forbes, then," the suited one intoned drily. He leaned forward and caught her gaze, compelling her. "Do as I say." He strode through a set of wooden doors adjacent to the hallway, and called over his shoulder for her to follow him.

Charlie glared at his back as she followed him into a sitting room, where Nik, or Niklaus, or whatever his name was, immediately stalked over to a bar and poured himself a drink. She rolled her eyes again. It couldn't be past nine in the morning.

Suit-guy gestured for her to sit on one of the couches, so she did, perching next to a pouting Rebekah. He observed her coolly for a moment before unbuttoning his suit jacket and sinking into the chair opposite. "Tell us the truth. What is your name?"

"Charlotte Elizabeth Forrester," she snapped. "My friends call me Charlie, but I don't think that includes you three. Who _are_ you people, anyway? And, seriously, _what_ are you?" She scoffed.

Nik froze on his way to a seat and stared at her, his eyes narrowed. The suit looked amused. He leaned back in his chair and told her, "My name is Elijah Mikaelson. These are two of my siblings, Niklaus and Rebekah. We are what remains of the Original family of vampires, and we are - some of us - friends of Miss Caroline Forbes, whose body you appear to be possessing. So from here on out," he leaned forward again, compelling her again, "tell us the whole truth."

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and nodded sharply. "I will tell the whole truth."

"Who are you?" Nik asked, looking at her as if she were a puzzle.

Charlie licked her lips and drew in a breath. "I don't know." She hesitated before adding, "I think I might be your friend."

The three siblings exchanged unreadable glances.

"Are you a passenger? Body jumper? Something else?" Rebekah demanded.

Charlie shook her head. "I don't think so. Would I know?"

"Yes," Elijah replied decisively. "Although she may be able to resist compulsion if she's a Passenger," he added, looking at Nik.

Nik sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Surely we have one of those bloody knives around here somewhere?"

Rebekah nodded before flashing away. Moments later, she returned, a knife glinting in her grasp.

"What are you doing?" Charlie squeaked in fear, shrinking away from the eager gleam in the other woman's eyes as she approached.

"You're a vampire," she snapped in response. "If you are who you say you are, there'll be no permanent damage." Before Charlie could dart away, Rebekah had lunged forward and stabbed the blade into her shoulder.

"You bitch!" Charlie shrieked, pulling the knife from her shoulder and pressing hard to the wound while she waited for it to heal. "This dress was _new_," she hissed, frowning.

Nik chuckled darkly and took a sip from his drink. "Definitely not a Passenger, then. So, a body jumper, or something else?" he directed the question towards Elijah.

"I am… uncertain. What do you think, brother?"

He looked back at Charlie speculatively. "Why did you say that you think you may be Caroline?"

She hesitated, but the compulsion was urging her to answer truthfully. "It honestly is a long story," she began, "but the short version is that five years ago, I woke up on a bus going through North Carolina with no idea who I was, where I was from, or where I was going. I knew facts - how to speak English, what country I was in, who William Shakespeare was - but no memories." Again, she paused before continuing. "But I did have a note. It told me that I wasn't _supposed_ to remember anything - that it was part of the plan. That I had to run. That no one from my past could find me. Not to look back, and not to go to Virginia, ever."

She cleared her throat as the three Originals exchanged another heavy look. "It was written in what, as best I could tell, was my own hand. It even says that I wrote it. It was only signed with initials, C.E.F. So I chose Charlotte Elizabeth Forrester, and have been on the run ever since."

A tense silence settled over the room and she struggled to find words to describe the rest of her story.

"Do you have anything to corroborate your story?" Elijah asked politely.

"The note… it's in my hotel room."

Rebekah sighed. "She could have written it herself, after taking over Caroline's body. I'll call Matt." She stalked out of the room as Elijah nodded.

"There is something else," Charlie admitted quietly to Elijah.

"Oh?"

Her eyes darted to Nik, who had again made his way to the sideboard to consider the liquor collection, and appeared to be studiously avoiding her gaze. "Last night, when… when Nik said her name, or, well, when he said 'Caroline', I…" She took a deep breath and leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees and placing her head in her hands. "It was almost like I was remembering him saying it before. I heard his voice in my head, saying the name 'Caroline', over and over, all in different tones and…"

Elijah leaned forward, his eyes darting rapidly over her face. "Is that all?"

"No," she mumbled. "I think… I might have had some kind of flashback earlier. It's never happened before, though, so I'm not sure."

Suddenly, Nik was right in front of her, kneeling on the ground and peeling her hands away from her face. "Tell me what you remembered." His eyes were locked with hers, pleading, but not compelling her.

"It was when you had your hand around my throat," she told him quietly, reluctant to break his gaze. "I remember you doing that before."

A dark cloud came over his face. "No, that isn't a memory," he dismissed, standing abruptly and turning to face Elijah.

Her heart sank at his dismissal. It's not that she'd thought it had truly been a memory, but it had seemed so _real_, that she couldn't help but have some hope of remembering… something. "Do you… do you have another brother? A twin? Silas?"

Nik and Elijah froze, their gazes locked. "Why do you ask?" Elijah intoned evenly, as Nik slowly pivoted to turn back towards her.

"He was yelling at me, he wanted to know where someone named Bonnie was, but I didn't know. Or at least, I didn't answer. And I… I called him 'Silas'."

Nik threw his head back, releasing a sigh, as he clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace.

"Is it possible, brother?" Elijah asked him quietly.

"I don't bloody well know," Nik ground out. "He appeared to me as Caroline, he could have very well appeared to her as me. She didn't tell me about it if he did."

"Wait, so I could actually be remembering something?" Charlie couldn't help the small flutter of hope in her chest.

The men ignored her. "She would have told someone."

Nik froze. "I'll call Stefan. See if he knows anything about Caroline being attacked by Silas in my form. And see what the bloody hell he's been doing for the past five years to keep him from noticing this." He gestured to Charlie, who was shaking her head at the tinny sound that had appeared as soon as he said the name 'Stefan'.

Elijah nodded. "Then I suppose I shall ask Marcellus to retrieve the luggage and supposed evidence from Miss Forrester's hotel room." Nik nodded, and turned to look at her again, inspecting her closely.

"I can go myself, you know," she cut in, rolling her eyes.

"Elijah," Nik said softly, again ignoring what she'd said. "I am inclined to believe her." Charlie blinked in surprise, while Elijah merely raised one eyebrow challengingly. "Despite having no apparent memories, she has some… habits, I suppose, which are quintessential Caroline. She is obviously different in some ways, but in others…"

Elijah seemed to consider his brother's words. "You do know her best, so I shall trust your judgement on this, Niklaus. But until we know more -"

"Oh," he chuckled, "I was not suggesting we simply _trust_ her, brother. I have no intention of letting her out of the compound until we've discovered the truth."

His brother nodded, satisfied. "My thoughts exactly, Niklaus."

* * *

_AN: I'm trying not to put too much in these notes, but here's a genuine question for you all... Would you rather have chapters about this length (~3K words) or shorter ones (~1.5K) which may involve multiple scenes/transitions? LMK if you have a strong opinion! Reviews are always appreciated!_


	4. The Investigation

_AN: I've incorporated some quotes into this chapter. Per usual, none of them belong to me._

* * *

For the rest of the day, Charlie mostly kept herself in the sitting room. She found a book with a collection of interesting and beautiful quotes, and entertained herself by discovering the ones which had been underlined or otherwise marked by the residents of the house while doing her best to ignore said residents as they drifted in and out of the room. Rebekah and Elijah were her main distractions. Nik, she noticed, hadn't returned.

At first, she had been using the book as a tool to distract her from what was happening. Her _only mission_ for the past five years had been to survive; and the key to her survival was not looking back. To avoid remembering. And here she was, trapped in a house with a group of people who appeared to be her long-lost frenemies, who were determined to see her memories restored.

Charlie tried more times than she could count to force herself to get up, leave the room, and keep walking until she was back at her hotel. But her feet seemed to disagree with her mind. The closest she could get was putting her feet on the floor and approaching the bookshelf. Half the books were in a mix of different languages, though, and most of the others appeared to be handwritten journals and grimmoires. So, she continued on with her mindless perusing of the book of quotes in front of her.

She figured that most of the quotes had been marked by Rebekah, as they were mostly romantic sentiments. Fitzgerald, Tolstoy, Yeats, Salinger, and Wharton… And then she found it. Wedged in the fold of the pages with the Wharton quote was a folded piece of parchment. Charlie opened it and couldn't hold back a gasp at what she saw. It was a sketch of a pair of eyes, staring forward intensely. But what shocked her was that they were almost certainly _her _eyes. She considered the Wharton quote again.

_It frightened him to think what must have gone to the making of her eyes._

Her gaze flickered back and forth, from the quote to the sketch, again and again, but she couldn't quite process the meaning of the two items sitting next to each other.

She was snapped out of her reverie when Rebekah threw a new outfit down on the couch next to her. "Come along, Caroline." she snarked. "Time to dress for dinner."

After some whining, bargaining, and more compulsion ("You will not leave this compound unless one of my siblings or I expressly allow it,") Rebekah allowed her to take a shower. Thankfully, dinner seemed to be a fairly relaxed affair, despite the fact that Rebekah had given her a nice dress to wear. Nik still wasn't back, and Rebekah was apparently content to ignore Charlie in favor of complaining about some guy named Matt not answering her phone calls.

"The Salvatores are out of contact as well, according to Niklaus," Elijah murmured, prompting Rebekah to frown and Charlie to shiver at the name. For the first time, Elijah seemed to notice. "Are you quite alright?"

"I'm -" Charlie gritted her teeth. "I'm apparently still compelled to tell the truth," she ground out. "And no, other than that, I'm _not_ okay. Every time you people say one of those names, I have some kind of… reaction."

"I shall remove your compulsion after we've proven your story one way or another," Elijah said evenly, delicately piercing a bite of his dinner with his fork. "But please, do elaborate on these 'reactions'."

She set down her silverware. "Like I said earlier, when your brother said 'Caroline' last night, it was like… like it was echoing somehow in my head. And earlier, when he mentioned 'Stefan', I felt a twinge in my stomach. And that name, 'Salvatore'? It's like it sent a shiver up my spine."

Nik's voice came from the doorway immediately behind her. "Surely you've heard other people say the name 'Caroline' before, though."

Her hands clenched as her body shivered involuntarily. "I have," she hissed. "And it didn't do _anything_ when Rebekah said it earlier, Nik, so I think we can assume it's just _you_." He paused on his way to his seat, staring at her with the same unreadable look he'd had on his face earlier.

Rebekah, however, choked out a laugh, dropping her silverware as she slapped her palms down on the table. "Please, stop calling him that," she giggled, as Nik shot her a venomous look, sinking into a chair. "I can hardly take it."

Charlie looked between the siblings, confused. "Well, honestly, it's better than '_Niklaus'_," she replied, adding air quotes and rolling her eyes. "No offense, but that's a ridiculous name in the modern world." She buried her scoff in her wine glass.

"Do _not _call me Niklaus," he snapped. "You may continue calling me Nik, if you so wish, but in the past you… _she_ always called me Klaus. As most people do." He glared at her.

"Klaus," she said quietly, looking down at her plate and frowning. The name felt odd on her tongue, but still _familiar_, somehow. She looked up and caught his gaze, only for him to look away after a moment.

The rest of dinner was silent.

After dinner, Elijah and Rebekah escorted her back to the sitting room. She told them where, exactly, the note was in her luggage. Elijah quickly found it and began examining it closely under a lamp. After a few moments of tense silence, Charlie couldn't help but ask the question that had been plaguing her.

"So, what's the deal with your brother? At first, I thought… well, I mean, does he hate me or something?"

Elijah looked up sharply, looking her over before glancing at his sister and minutely shaking his head. Rebekah, in response, sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes.

"He doesn't hate you," she said, more kindly than Charlie had expected. "He's probably quite torn, though. You and Nik have a very complex history, and this memory loss you're supposedly experiencing is putting him in an... uncomfortable position, I'm sure."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "I really have lost my memories."

Rebekah hummed in reply, striding towards her. "Even if you have, you were hardly trustworthy before. You helped kill two of our brothers and tried to kill us, on multiple occasions."

"Wait, seriously? I did _what_?"

The other blonde tilted her head to one side. "Yes, well, we've tried to kill you, as well. As I said, it's a complex history."

Charlie was at a loss for words, gaping at Rebekah, but Elijah saved her by interrupting. "Pardon me, Miss Forrester, but I was wondering if you could write out the following phrases for me?" He then read out some of the letter, and she dutifully copied the sentences down. Elijah frowned down at the paper she'd handed him, comparing it silently to the note she had found when she first awoke on a bus with no memories.

"Niklaus," he called, turning his head towards the doorway, "come take a look."

A whooshing sound announced Nik's - Klaus' presence in the room. He took the two papers from Elijah, who pointed silently to a few spots on the letter. Nik then tilted them under the light, squinting faintly.

"A forgery," he pronounced after examining the two pages for less than a minute.

"What?" Charlie shot up from her seat on the couch, her eyes wide.

"Quite a good imitation," Nik murmured, still examining the letter, "but you can see distinct hesitation marks in the letter, even in the middle of several words, as if whoever wrote it had to pause and consult a guide." He held the note out to her, pointing to a few of the words.

"And you're an expert on handwriting analysis?" she challenged, stepping towards him and snatching the letter from his hand.

Nik turned to face her. "I'm an expert on many things, love." Her mouth went dry at the innuendo in his tone. "But art is my forte, yes."

Charlie swallowed thickly and vaguely noted that Elijah and Rebekah had left the room sometime during their spat. "Okay," she conceded, "but what does that mean? That it's a forgery?"

He searched her face before saying slowly, "It means that there are a few different tactics we must try." Nik reached forward and cupped a hand around her jaw, holding her gaze levelly. "Caroline," he murmured in a silken voice, his pupils dilating and capturing her will in his own, "remember."

Her body trembled in his hold as her mind raced to follow his command. But there was almost nothing before the bus, just the brief snatch of a memory she'd found that morning, and the sound of the voices echoing in her head. His own, repeating her name. The warm, femine voice, telling her to run from anyone in her past. There was nothing else. She tried and tried, but there was an impenetrable, inky blackness stopping her.

Charlie gasped as her knees gave out, but Nik caught her around the waist before she could fall to the ground. "I - I can't," she gasped. "There's nothing else there." Her voice shook.

Nik was looking at her with such tender concern that she couldn't bear it. She closed her eyes and gently tried to untangle herself from him. "You said there were a couple of things we could try?" she asked once they were sitting side by side on the couch, no longer touching.

He appeared to consider it for a moment. "But you did remember something earlier. Or at least, you think you did. With Silas."

Charlie shivered, but nodded.

"Tell me what you remember," he commanded.

She turned to face him and took in a deep breath. Before she could tell him, though, she decided there was something more pressing. "I need a drink," she declared, moving over to the sideboard and grabbing a glass for herself. When she looked back towards the couch, he didn't look like he had moved a single muscle, even to breathe.

"Nik? Are you okay? Er- Klaus, I mean."

He shook off his stupor. "Fine," he told her, but he was again looking at her like she was a specimen to be studied.

Charlie sat back down on the couch and told him everything that she remembered about the apparent memory she'd recalled earlier. He asked about everything she _hadn't_ focused on - the surroundings (trees); if she could recall her feelings (yes, terror); and if she remembered any non-visual and non-auditory cues (no).

Eventually, Nik sighed, clearly disappointed. "Without more information as to the genuine interaction between Silas and Caroline, I'm afraid there's not much we can do regarding this… avenue."

"But you said there were more things we could try, right?"

"Yes," he mumbled after clearing his throat. "The next is, ah, me entering your mind." She sat back, surprised.

"I'm sorry, but, what?"

He looked equal parts sheepish and frustrated at her incoherent question. "I'm much stronger than you, sweetheart. Even if you can't see anything, it doesn't mean that _I_ won't be able to find a way to open your memories to you."

Charlie shook her head stubbornly. "Seriously? No. We're both vampires. You can't be _that_ much stronger than me."

At that, Nik huffed a laugh. "Love, you haven't even seen your first decade as a vampire. I'm more than a hundred times your age. Besides which, _you_ are a vampire. _I_ am a hybrid. The Original hybrid, in fact. Even if we were the same age, I would still be much stronger than you."

She narrowed her eyes. "What's a hybrid?"

He blinked at her question, taken aback. Then, for the third time that day, he shifted his face to reveal his vampire aspect. Charlie shrank back from the glowing golden eyes and double fangs. "I'm half werewolf," he growled, before allowing his face to return to normal.

"Oh," she said in a small, breathy voice. "I thought werewolves were a myth until Marcel mentioned them the other day," she confided.

He barked a harsh laugh. "That's not quite true, but I suppose you don't remember all of the werewolves you've known."

Charlie was gaping again. "I know other werewolves?"

Nik paused, then looked at her appraisingly. When he spoke again, his voice was cold. "Knew. They're all dead now, save one or two."

"Oh." She paused. "Were they… were they friends of mine? How did they die?"

He shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly and leaned back into the cushions of the couch. "Some of them were, I'm sure. I killed most of them. Slaughtered the lot of them for betraying me. The only one who made it out was the boy with whom you were involved. I spared his life as a gift to you." Nik's voice was as cold as ice.

Charlie was sure that her face was completely drained of blood. She turned her head away from him so that she was looking forward. "I see," she told him softly. She swallowed around the lump in her throat before shaking her head, and then saying, "No, no, I don't see. You killed my friends? Almost killed my ex-boyfriend? And - and I'm just supposed to _trust_ that you're helping me?" She turned back towards him, her face a mask of confusion. "Your sister said that I killed your _brothers_, Nik."

He stared at her silently, his expression oddly blank in the face of her horrified confusion.

"What kind of game are you playing?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

He continued staring in silence for a moment before answering. "A very old one, it would seem." His voice was tired.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped. "I've just about had enough of your cryptic phrases and half-truths. Tell me what the _hell_ is going on!" Her frustration very nearly covered the quiver of fear in her voice.

Nik's eyes crinkled in amusement. "I'll tell you what, sweetheart. If you still need an explanation when you're back to being yourself, I will be more than happy to give it to you."

She glared at him, refusing to accept his deal, but unwilling to deny it either. Charlie could hardly keep up with his mood swings, and she wasn't willing to provoke him further. He chuckled at her stubbornness. "For now, love," he gently placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze as his pupils dilated once again, "sleep."

Immediately, her eyes began closing. "You bastard," she mumbled around a yawn.

Another warm chuckle chased her into her dreams.

* * *

_AN: Sorry, I know it's been a minute. Hopefully you're still interested!_


	5. The Plan Alphabet

"What the hell is _this_?" They were standing in a pale yellow bedroom, filled with the clutter and trinkets of a teenage girl. She was wearing a tank top and shorts that she had definitely _not_ been wearing when Nik told her -_compelled her_\- to sleep, and she had a tacky charm bracelet on her right wrist.

"This is your childhood bedroom," Nik said, from where he was slouched in the doorway. "Well, your teenage bedroom, truthfully." He peered around the room in interest.

Charlie's breath caught. "So, this is a memory? Does that mean…"

"Ah," he cut her off, looking back to her. "It is a memory, yes. Unfortunately, it is not one of yours." He looked at her meaningfully. "I do hope I got all the details right." Nik sat on the edge of the bed and negligently touched one of the birthday cards sitting on her nightstand. "Though, I'm afraid I've no idea what the inscriptions in these said."

She looked around the room, searching for anything that triggered a memory. Nothing came to her, but she was still stunned. "How often were you in this bedroom?" she found herself asking in disbelief.

"Just once, on her eighteenth birthday. But it was a _very_ memorable night."

She flopped down onto the bed next to him, shocked by the realization she'd just had. The way he'd reacted to her initially; everything that Rebekah had said to Marcel; this incredibly detailed memory; the quote she'd found underlined before dinner accompanying the sketch of her eyes; the way he vacillated between being intrigued and coldly furious with her… it all pointed to one simple truth. "You're in love with… um, aren't you? Or, you were."

He scoffed. "In love with whom?"

Charlie shrugged one shoulder. "Her, I guess. Caroline. Even though you were - we were? - enemies, you loved her. Love her? I'm not really sure about the pronouns, or the tense," she clarified, shaking her head and frowning.

"It's the oddest thing," he looked directly forward, avoiding looking at her, as he hesitated to answer. "You _are_ her, but you're also… very much not."

"That clears it all right up, thanks," Charlie chuckled, leaning her head back down onto the pillow behind her.

Nik smirked at her. "Regardless, I believe we can agree that this plan hasn't helped. Time for Plan C, love." He leaned back on the bed next to her, propping himself up on the pillows.

"I think this is already way past Plan C," she scoffed, before turning her head to face him. "But what is it, anyway?"

He turned his head to meet her eyes. "What was Plan C, then?"

Charlie snorted lightly. "Well, Plan A was me not meeting anyone that I knew here. Plan B was me escaping during the party, and Plan C was me sneaking out in the morning."

He smirked, but otherwise didn't respond.

"What's Plan C?" she insisted.

"I'll tell you in the morning."

When she blinked, he was gone.

She woke to Rebekah throwing clothes at her again. "Get dressed," the Original demanded. "We have someone to see."

"My luggage is here now. I do have my own clothes, you know."

Rebekah scoffed. "You expect me to be seen in public with you whilst you're wearing those tawdry rags? I think _not_."

Charlie rolled her eyes, but put on the clothes.

Downstairs, they met Nik, who was apparently going with them. "So, where are we going?" Charlie asked the siblings.

"Plan C," Nik said jauntily. "We're going to see a witch."

* * *

Marcel was waiting for them in the church, talking to a young woman with long brown hair and a delicate, heart-shaped face.

The girl rolled her eyes at the Originals. "What do _you_ want?" she snapped, crossing her arms and pursing her lips. "You know you've already called in all the favors you had with me, Klaus." She spat his name from her mouth as if it had burned her.

He leveled an evil smirk at the girl. "That may be true, but I have leverage here."

"Klaus," Marcel began warningly, "don't start something now."

He scoffed. "Relax, Marcellus. I mean no harm. I come today to offer the carrot rather than the stick." Here, he gestured towards Charlie. "The lovely Caroline Forbes, of Mystic Falls, Virginia. Caroline was present immediately after the death of my dear brother, Kol," he paused dramatically as he moved to stand behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. When he continued, his voice was dropped into a lower tone, and she shivered as she felt his breath brush past her ear. "In fact, Caroline took his body away to be buried."

The girl, presumably the witch, drew in a sharp gasp. "We could get his ashes," she whispered. Her eyes flew to Charlie's. "Is that true?"

Charlie stepped away from Nik, her eyes darting up to meet his. "Uh, Nik…"

"And this is where we need your assistance, Davina. Caroline's memory has been wiped, and she cannot remember her past. So she cannot tell us the location of my brother's body unless you restore her memories."

She looked at him suspiciously. "How do I know that you're telling me the truth?"

"Davina, whatever you may think of me, I'm a man of my word. Besides, Kol is my brother. I'm just as eager to have him returned to us as you are."

The witch still looked skeptical.

Rebekah huffed and stalked past Marcel to snatch a chalice from the altar. She shoved it into Nik's hand and gave him a gesture which clearly indicated that he should get on with it.

He snarled, letting his fangs extend, and then bit into the flesh of his palm. He held his dripping hand over the cup and handed it to Marcel once the wound had sealed. "Collateral," he snarled, "to be returned once Caroline reveals the location of Kol's grave."

Marcel and Davina made eye contact for a moment before nodding in tandem. "Good enough for me," Marcel said with his wide, toothy grin.

Davina rolled her eyes and gestured to Charlie. "Caroline, come with me. Alone," she commanded, stopping Nik in his tracks with a raised hand and narrowed eyes.

"If _anything_ happens to her…"

"Then I lose my _best chance_ at getting Kol back," the witch snapped. They glared at each other, neither willing to blink.

"Oh, enough posturing already," Charlie groaned. "Let's get this show on the road, please!"

"I thought she didn't want to get her memories back," Rebekah snarked as they left.

"Something must have changed her mind," Marcel replied with a shrug. Charlie paused, wondering about just that.

She glanced back at the people standing by the altar. Marcel was gazing at Rebekah raptly, while she was stealing looks at him but pretending to ignore him.

Nik was looking straight at her. His eyes were filled with so much emotion, it left her breathless. And her decision was suddenly completely _made_, just like that. It was true that she'd gotten to the point of wanting it done just because she didn't have a choice in the matter, but looking at Nik… If she had her memories, then she would know what it was to be loved like that.

Davina sighed and beckoned at her again. The two walked to the back of the church and up a rickety set of stairs. Once in the attic, the witch turned back to her and gave her a thorough inspection.

"So your memories are just gone?"

"Pretty much everything from before I woke up on a bus five years ago. Just a big, black nothing," she confirmed, offering the girl a nervous smile.

Davina stepped forward and held out her hands, palms up. "I'll need to read you to see what's going on."

Charlie hesitantly reached her hands out and placed them in Davina's. The witch closed her eyes, tipped her head back, and began to chant. "Videre damnum in animo, videre damnum in animo, videre damnum in animo, videre -"

Disjointed scenes flashed before Charlie's eyes. Herself as a human girl, riding a bike, a blonde woman running behind her. Wearing a cheerleading uniform. Hugging two girls tightly, the brunette sobbing while she and the other girl comforted her. Standing in the same bedroom from the dream, screaming at a man -a vampire- with black hair. A blond boy kissing her. Crying in a bathroom, blood on her face, while a different boy wiped her chin and told her to breathe. A brunette boy with glowing yellow eyes. Nik's face, looking at her as he laughed, genuine happiness in his sparkling blue eyes. A blond man holding up a syringe, and a dark haired man running towards her, his vampire face showing.

"Caroline!" Davina was shouting, shaking her shoulders.

Her eyes flew open as she gasped. "Did you see that?"

"Yeah," the witch answered with a giggle. "It means that the memories are still in your mind. I can definitely pull them out for you," she hesitated and grimaced. "But it will really hurt."

There was no hesitation. "Do it."

Davina told her to lay in the center of a chalk circle which had been drawn on the floor. She added a few more marks around Charlie's body at various places before twisting her wrists, lighting the candles all around the attic.

"Here we go," she murmured, and then began chanting again. "Sana memoria damnum, sana memoria damnum…" Her hands hovered over Charlie's head. "Sana memoria damnum, sana memoria damnum, sana memoria damnum!"

Charlie's eyes rolled back in her skull as a terrific pressure built up behind her eyes. At first it was only mildly uncomfortable, then oppressive and then… She tried her best to resist the pain, but there was only so much she could do to distract herself.

Her back arched off the floor as she started screaming. She couldn't stop.

* * *

When Klaus had heard her voice, hissing at his sister, he'd at first thought that he was imagining things. Caroline Forbes had shown up at his doorstep, ninety-some odd years earlier than he'd expected.

But he had known the instant he locked eyes with Caroline that something - something was wrong. It wasn't just that her reactions were off, although her surprise and confusion at seeing him was enough of an indication… No, there was simply an indefinable difference in her eyes.

It was her eyes that had first drawn him in, after all. Resigned, but furious. Unapologetic, unafraid… honest. And yes, she hadn't always been honest with him. She had previously lied and deceived him. But even in those moments, her eyes had always been honest with him.

That first time they met, he had seen her sorrow; her conflict; and her desperate desire to live. He had seen her indignation at his mother's ball. Her guilt outside the Grill, and her reluctant interest both there and at the 1920s dance. The next time he saw her, he was at the school, and her eyes had filled with fear and gratitude in equal measure. Every time after that, her eyes had always told him what he needed to know.

Every time, until she came to New Orleans. Her eyes had been shuttered, closed off. There had been no truth in them, no honesty; nothing that indicated that they belonged to his Caroline.

So of course he'd known that something was deeply wrong, the instant they'd locked eyes. And now, he had found a way to help her. But to get her back… He was worried that the cost would be too high.

The screaming came in waves. Rebekah had gone during the first break, telling him, "I don't need to wait around for her to have her memories back. She'll either be back to her old, stuck-up self; or she will continue to be her new, shifty self. Who cares." She left in a whirlwind of her long blonde hair, leaving Marcel to keep him company.

Klaus realized after the second break that it was just enough time in between screams for Caroline's vocal cords to heal themselves after being damaged by her continuous wails of pain.

"How much longer will this take?" he ground out after the fourth break ended in more screaming, pacing back and forth.

"Dee is restoring twenty years of memories, Klaus. I'm sure it'll be over soon," Marcel intoned from his seat on the sacristy steps.

"It had damn well better work, after all of this."

"She said it will, so it will," Marcel assured him.

"I just… I can't stand for her to be in this pain," Klaus choked out. He could feel his eyes misting over, so he clenched them shut. If his sister had stayed, he could never allow himself to be so emotional. But with Marcellus…

"You really care for this one, huh? With what Bekah said, she seemed to think that you'd rip my throat out just for talking to sweet Caroline," he chuckled. "So I already thought that you had it bad, but this… this seems new."

Klaus glared at him. "I haven't seen her in more than five years, Marcellus. I would hardly classify this as 'new'."

His son waved his hand in the air, as if to wave the comment away. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

He rolled his eyes and sat next to him on the stairs. "I suppose the spirit of your comment, at least, is correct."

"Now, you told me about plenty of your conquests - and then there are the ones I actually met - but, Klaus, why have I never heard about Caroline Forbes?"

The hybrid cleared his throat. "Because, Marcellus," he began, "there are simply some things which are not discussed. I may as well ask you why you choose not to discuss your relationship with my sister."

Marcel sat up straighter at that and let out a low whistle. "That bad, huh?" He slapped Klaus on the shoulder, leaving his hand there to rest.

Klaus sighed and nodded, his mouth twisting into a half-hearted smirk. "That bad."

Davina's chanting and the screaming both stopped suddenly. Klaus jerked himself to standing as he heard Davina finally say something other than that unceasing chant. There was no audible response.

He flashed to the foot of the stairs, but hit a barrier before he could put a foot on the bottom step. Klaus released a frustrated growl. "Witch!"

Davina walked calmly down the steps, pushing past him with a dramatic eye roll.

"You okay, Dee?"

"I'm fine," she told Marcel, accepting a hug from him before turning back to face Klaus.

"Let me up to see her!" he demanded.

The witch snapped back. "No, you don't get to go up there."

"How do I know she's all right?"

"Oh, please. You think I would hurt her?"

"If you think it would hurt me, then yes, I'm sure you're capable of doing so," he growled.

She rolled her eyes. "I helped her, Klaus!"

"Then let me up to see her!"

"No! She needs to rest. Caroline's exhausted."

"Then she needs blood -"

"I left her a blood bag!"

"- fresh blood, which I am willing to provide her -"

"And really, Caroline needs to wake up in her own time."

"Then she can wake up at home, in her bed!"

"Her bed?" Davina snapped. "Or yours, Klaus?"

"Watch your tongue -"

"Let's all just calm down," Marcel tried to interject, but the combatants ignored him and faced each other down.

"I saw plenty of her memories, Klaus. She's a good person -"

"You don't need to tell me about who Caroline is -"

"- and you need to stay away from her, before you turn her into a monster, too!"

Before he could even process his decision to move, Klaus was stalking towards Davina, until his face was mere inches from hers. "Do not presume to tell me what _I_ need to do, witch! You _will_ allow me up to see her before you say something which forces my hand."

Davina raised a hand, clearly preparing to give him an aneurysm. His fangs dropped in response.

And then, before either could move forward, a streak flew down the stairs and across the room towards him. A delicate hand wrapped around his neck, forcing him backwards until his back was slammed into the wall of the church.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Caroline's eyes were blazing, fury and passion and good humour in equal measure, and from that alone - from the fact that the shutters were gone, blown off the hinges - he knew that she was back. His Caroline was back.

"Hello, love," he murmured, a whispered greeting meant only for her ears, despite their audience. Klaus couldn't help the wide grin that stole across his face.

Caroline smiled back.


	6. The Passenger

"Hello, love," Klaus murmured, a whispered greeting meant only for her ears, despite their audience. Klaus couldn't help the wide grin that stole across his face.

Caroline smiled back, and removed her hand from his throat, casting her eyes down for a moment in an attempt to avoid his gaze. He wouldn't let her, though, placing a finger under her chin and gently forcing her to meet his eyes again. "It is good to see you back to yourself, Caroline."

"It's good to _be_ back," she told him, her smile fading. "Thank you." She turned to Marcel and Davina. "And thank you, too. You don't know how much it means to me," she told them, taking a step towards them.

"Of course, chere," Marcel told her, waving his hand and giving her his broad, toothy grin. "A friend of Klaus is a friend of mine."

Caroline let out a small laugh and stepped towards them again. "Friend, huh?" She raised an eyebrow and held out her hand towards him. "Caroline Forbes, officially."

Marcel grasped her hand, shaking it and grinning. "Good to meet you, finally. I've heard plenty about you."

She rolled her eyes, holding her hand out to Davina. The witch extended her hand slowly, giving Caroline a small smile. "Davina Claire," she told her.

"Thank you," Caroline told her, holding her hand gently. "Thank you so much."

Davina nodded and swallowed hard. "Not to be rude, but I didn't just do it for you. I was told that you know about Kol?"

Caroline grimaced and nodded, pulling her hand away from her and turning back towards Klaus. "Klaus, can I speak to you for a minute?"

His eyes flashed with annoyance, but he nodded, pulling her a few steps away from Davina and Marcel. "You know Marcel will still be able to hear us, love."

"I know," she bit out. "But I wanted to ask you… do you think Kol would go after Elena and Jeremy?"

Klaus laughed harshly. "Kol was already resurrected once, sweetheart. He didn't go after your friends then, so I find it unlikely that he would go after them now."

"Wait, if he was already resurrected once before, shouldn't you already have his body? Or, _a_ body?"

He sighed. "It's a bit more complicated than that, so, no."

"Huh." She processed the information before turning back to Marcel and Davina and walking towards them once more.

"I _can _tell you where Kol's body is, but it's hard to explain to someone who doesn't know what I'm talking about. You might be better off coming with me when I go back to Mystic Falls."

Davina was immediately nodding her head. "I'm not sure if I should go, since it's out of New Orleans… Maybe we could send Josh, though?" The question was directed to Marcel.

He cocked his head towards Klaus, shooting him a querying look.

"That won't be necessary," Klaus replied. "My siblings and I will bring my brother home."

Caroline glanced at him, her eyes sorrowful, as Marcel and Davina nodded in agreement. "He's in the cave," she told him gently. "The one with the drawings. I thought…," Caroline pause and lifted her hand, as if contemplating putting it on his arm, before lowering it and continuing. "It was the only place that I could think to put him. I'm sorry, for not telling you earlier."

Klaus swallowed hard and closed his eyes, nodding tightly. An uncomfortable silence stretched for a moment before he opened his eyes again and looked her over in an appraising way. "I haven't asked you yet, but you're sure that all of your memories have been returned?"

"Yes," Caroline said, her face twisting to look sour. "I remember everything." Her eyes blazed with anger for a moment, before she closed them, tamping down her emotions.

"And you're all right?"

She laughed hollowly. "I'm starving and exhausted, Klaus. But fine."

He negligently reached behind Marcel to grab the chalice full of his blood off the altar. "Here. This will help." He pressed it into her hands. Marcel and Davina shared a glance, her eyebrows flying up her forehead.

Caroline accepted the cup, but gently protested "Klaus…"

He merely smirked at her, leaning in and whispering in her ear. "It's hardly the first time you've had my blood, love."

Her cheeks flushed, and Klaus' smirk widened. Without saying anything more, Caroline lifted the chalice to her lips and took a drink. Her eyes drifting closed as she drank deeply, her black veins dancing beneath them. When she opened her eyes again, Marcel and Davina were turning towards the door, clearly intending to leave her alone with Klaus, who was looking far too pleased with himself.

Caroline drained the last of the blood from the chalice and then took a deep breath, suppressing her hunger. She turned back to him.

His eyes nearly sparkled with as he took her in, but then his expression shifted to something much more serious. Klaus hesitated, but then decided to jump in. "If you do remember everything, Caroline, then you must remember what happened that caused you to lose your memory."

She dropped the cup back on the altar and turned to face him, her eyes again flashing with anger. "Yeah. I do."

"And?"

Caroline closed her eyes and sighed, centering herself. "It's a long story, Klaus. And I think your siblings will want to hear it, too," she eventually admitted.

He gestured towards the door of the church, resting his hand lightly on the small of her back as he guided her outside. "Let's go home, then. You can tell us all at the same time."

She nodded sharply, her jaw set and her eyes facing forward.

* * *

The four of them were in the sitting room again, this time all with drinks in hand. Proper greetings were made ("Miss Forbes, how good to see that you're back to yourself." "Please, call me Caroline," and "Oh goody, the bitch is back." "Like you have room to talk?" followed by a growled "Bekah…"), and then they all got down to business.

"So," Rebekah leaned forward in her seat. "What the hell happened, Caroline?"

"Okay, here's the thing. Remember when Katherine died?"

All three of the siblings froze. Klaus winced minutely, and Rebekah's eyes went momentarily wide. Elijah dropped his full tumbler to the floor, where it shattered. His face was a mask of shock.

"Excuse me, Miss Forbes -"

"Caroline," she corrected him, bewildered by his response.

"Did you say that Katerina _died_?"

"Yes...," she drew out slowly, before she realized what he was implying. Her jaw dropped open in shock as she whirled to look at Klaus, who was studying his hands and avoiding her eyes. "_Seriously_, Klaus! You didn't tell him!"

"Bekah didn't think that -"

"Oh, don't blame me for this -"

"I'm not blaming you, I'm simply _explaining_ -"

"I cannot _believe _that my own siblings would keep this from me!"

"SHUT UP!" Caroline bellowed, startling the Originals into temporary silence. She quickly took advantage and continued on with her story. "You can argue all you like about it later, but you should know that what I was about to say was this - it turns out that she didn't actually _die_. She's still alive. Kind of."

"Explain," Elijah demanded, his eyes hard.

Caroline sighed and clutched her glass. "Okay, so, after Elena cured her, Katherine had to go on the run again -"

"After what?" Elijah gasped out, his hand flexing on the arm of the chair. Rebekah winced when a cracking noise sounded from under his fingers.

"Elena… Oh, God, how do you not know any of this? Ugh. Katherine attacked Elena, and Elena had the cure - like, Silas, the Five, Qetsiyah's cure - in her pocket, and Katherine was going to stake her. So Elena shoved the cure in her mouth - Katherine's mouth, I mean - and Katherine became human again. Or, _mortal_, at least. As human as a doppelganger can even be."

"Katerina, a human… She must have been _miserable_," Elijah mused, looking distraught.

Caroline shrugged. "It seemed like it, yeah. She ended up crashing with me for a while, because she didn't have anywhere else to go. But anyway, she went on the run from Silas, because he wanted to suck the cure out of her veins. And somehow, Nadia figured at least some of this out, and decided to come and help Katherine. So she kidnapped her, or something. I'm not sure -"

"And who is this 'Nadia'?"

Her eyes went wide. "Nadia? Nadia Petrova? She's Katherine's daughter."

Rebekah choked on her drink. "I'm _sorry_," she finally managed to cough out. "Did you say…"

Caroline was already nodding her confirmation. "Yeah, she had a daughter in Bulgaria, remember? It's why she was banished and went to England, or whatever. So Nadia spent her life searching for Katherine, and was eventually turned into a vampire. And it took her five hundred years to find her. But she did, and she was going to take her on the run from Silas. But then Damon decided to _help_ Silas, and he lured Katherine back in so that Silas could drain her and suck the cure out of her veins."

Elijah's lips parted in horror.

"She's already told you that the doppelganger is still alive, calm down," Rebekah said with a dramatic eye roll.

"Yeah," Caroline confirmed. "She somehow survived that, though no one is really sure _how_. But she started aging rapidly after the cure was out of her veins, and vampire blood wouldn't heal her. I would have turned her; I offered, but we weren't sure that it wouldn't just kill her instantly…"

Klaus scoffed. "She did _murder_ you, Caroline."

"Yes, but I'm weirdly better off."

"Please, continue," Elijah interjected.

"Right. So, then Katherine was dying. There seemed to be nothing we could do about it. Until Nadia realized that their ancestors were Traveler witches, so then she had this plan that she could get Katherine to learn the Passenger spell, and Passenger herself into her - Nadia's, that is - head."

"So she'd live inside her own daughter?" Rebekah looked vaguely disgusted. "How very reminiscent of the time Esther did the same to me."

"Well that's the thing," Caroline leaned forward. "Katherine refused to do that to Nadia. She told us that she'd come to terms with dying, that she wanted Nadia to leave and live a full life."

Klaus raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Katerina Petrova agreed to go gently into the night?"

Caroline grimaced. "Yeah, looking back, we definitely should have realized right then that something was going on. But we thought that was the end of it - we thought she died that night."

"And she didn't?" Elijah confirmed.

"No," she groaned, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. "She Passengered herself into _Elena_."

There was a shocked silence for a minute before Klaus began laughing. "Brava, Katerina," he chuckled.

"Klaus! She took over my best friend's body!"

"And how did you discover her deception, sweetheart?"

Caroline took a long gulp of her drink and winced. "Matt figured it out first, but Nadia kept him from saying anything. And then, before he could tell anyone, Katherine… she revealed herself to us. She found out there were more Travelers around, and that they were probably after her and Stefan. So she warned Stefan, and she took off with Nadia."

"So... Katerina Petrova is alive," Elijah said, a small smile on his face.

* * *

It was Enzo, of all people, who tipped them off.

"Ugh, what the hell?" She sat upright, rubbing her neck and taking in the chaos that surrounded her. "Oh, my God, Matt!" Caroline dove over the overturned coffee table and cradled her friend's head in her lap. She whipped her head around, snarling, when she heard someone approaching from behind.

"Yeah, his neck's been snapped. Yours was too. You're welcome for putting you on the couch, by the way," Tyler was standing in the doorway, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Frantically, Caroline checked Matt's hand, breathing out a sigh of relief when she found his ring. "What the hell happened, Ty?"

He spread his hands and shrugged. "Uh, considering that you were both dead when I got here half an hour ago, I don't know! But, you know, I think we can narrow the suspect list down to one person in particular. Tall, brunette, related to your murderer?"

She let her eyes drift closed and groaned. "Nadia…"

"Yeah, seems about right. I figure she got the jump on you, snapped your neck from behind, then overpowered Matt."

"But why? She'd been compelling him, and faking to us that they had some kind of whirlwind romance, and then she just kills him out of the blue? That doesn't make any sense."

"Care, she's a psychopath. I'm not sure they ever make sense."

She sighed. "All I'm saying is -" She was cut off by the ringing of her phone. "Ugh, hold on."

She answered, despite it being Damon's number. "Hello?"

"Hello," a deep, accented voice replied.

"You're not Damon," she began slowly.

"Ah, no, love. Enzo."

"Enzo, Damon's murder-buddy?"

His voice was tinged with laughter when he replied. "I wasn't aware that Enzo is such a common name."

She scoffed. "What do you want?"

"First of all, I was told that we would get on swimmingly, as Damon claims that I am just your type."

"My _type_? Are you kidding me? What does that even - no, you know what? Why are you calling me?"

"Damon asked me to get you a message."

"Would you quit _flirting _and just tell her what I told you?" Damon shouted from the background.

She scoffed. Again.

"For the record, your type is apparently well-traveled, charming accent, and dodgy morals."

"Not _that _part, Enzo," Damon whined.

"Ugh, I do not want to have to listen to this," Tyler grunted from behind her.

"Oh, shut up! Both of you!" Caroline snapped. "What's the message?"

Enzo hesitated. "Damon claims that Elena isn't _Elena_. It's Katherine, Passengered into Elena's body. Once I told her that the Travelers were involved in Dr. Maxfield's shenanigans, she dropped the act and ran. Stefan's on his way here now to break us out, but she left him a note warning him to steer clear of the Travelers. They apparently have a penchant for draining doppelgangers."

She gasped as the world froze for a moment. Her mind whirled. Her best friend had been a Passenger for over a week, and she hadn't even noticed!

"Hello? Caroline?"

At Enzo's prompting, she snapped out of her daze. "Okay... Tell Stefan to call me when you're all safe."

"Will do, gorgeous."

The line went dead just as Matt gasped, taking in a deep, heaving breath. Caroline turned on her heel to look at him, while Tyler rushed over to help him sit up.

"Katherine -" Matt choked out.

"We know, man," Tyler assured him. "She's taken over Elena's body."

"Nadia was pumping me for information on Elena's habits, trying to keep Katherine from being discovered. I figured it out, so she was waiting for the vervain to clear my system, but then… I don't know. She got a phone call from Katherine, I guess. The next thing I know, she flashed in here and snapped Care's neck."

"Yeah, figured that one out," Caroline interjected bitterly, absently rubbing her neck again.

"I tried to fight her off, call someone, but she got me, too, before I could do anything. How… how did you both know already?"

Caroline and Tyler exchanged a look. "Enzo called. Apparently, Katherine found out the Travelers are around, and decided to make a run for it. Something about them being obsessed with doppelganger blood? She warned Stefan, tipped Damon off, and ran off."

"Yeah, and you got to miss Enzo and Caroline flirting. It was riveting," Tyler snarked.

"We were not flirting!"

"Do you even know what flirting is, Care?"

"Tyler, we dated. You do _know _that _we _had to flirt to get to that point, right?"

"Come on, Caroline. You know that you sounded exactly like you did whenever you talked to Klaus on that phone with Enzo, and we all know how that went!"

"I'm just gonna… go…" Matt edged out of the room.

"Seriously, Tyler? Fine. Let's do this, then."

"Do what, Care?"

"Let's have it out! I get it, okay? You hate that I slept with Klaus. You _hate_ that I see him as something other than just the villain! You hate me, because I did the same thing that Matt did with Rebekah. Less than what Elena does with Damon! Is that about right?"

"Stop! I don't hate you, Care!"

"Well, how is it fair for you to act like that, huh?"

"I don't know! Maybe people just expect more from you!"

"Why? Because being good comes _so_ easily to me? Well, guess what, Tyler, it _doesn't_! I am a vampire. I have the same impulses as you. So I'm allowed to make some mistakes along the way. Yes, I slept with Klaus. But it was _after_ you walked away from me. That was my choice and I'm living with it and I don't need to be hearing about it every five seconds. So get over it or get out of my life, but I'm done feeling guilty!"

Tyler clenched his fists and his jaw, his gaze darting away from her face. "Whatever, Care. We have more important things to worry about right now, anyway."

She huffed and walked off to find Matt.


	7. The Assignments

They all met up at the Salvatore house later, with Damon locked up in the jail cell in the wine cellar. To allow him to participate in the discussion, they all stood in the basement for their 'war council', as Caroline dubbed it.

"Well, that explains a few things," Stefan agreed. "She's been acting strange… She tried to kiss me when we were on the way to get to Damon and Enzo."

There was a chorus of noise, with Damon, Caroline, and Bonnie all exclaiming "WHAT?" in nearly perfect unison, while Enzo looked equal parts murderous and disturbed. Tyler, Matt, and Jeremy's expressions ranged from disinterested to disgusted.

There were several comments made regarding the fact that it had taken them so long to put two and two together to get four.

"She's brilliant," Damon had groaned, looking as horrified as he was impressed.

"She was at my house. How did none of us figure it out?" Tyler agreed, bewildered. His face cleared, and he nodded towards Caroline. "Although, she _is_ the reason that I found out about you and Klaus."

Eventually the self-recriminations died down.

"Okay, so we have two problems, then," Caroline summed up. "First, Katherine is in Elena's body. And she's missing. And the Travelers are maybe after her and Stefan. Second, Damon is infected with the Ripper Virus."

"I think you just squeezed four problems into the first one, gorgeous," Enzo replied with a cocked eyebrow and a slight smirk.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, then we have _five_ problems. Happy?"

"Care, I don't think that changing the number you say actually changes the number of questions we have," Bonnie said with a small grin.

"Either way, the answer to the first one is obvious. The Traveler knife expels Passengers without killing the host," Stefan cut her off. "Matt, you have the knife, right?"

"I… I don't know if I have it _anymore_," Matt admitted uneasily. "I'll have to check where I hid it, but," he winced, "Nadia was compelling me, so there's a chance that she took it."

A chorus of groans greeted his words.

"We really should have left the knife with someone else. Literally, anyone else," Damon groaned.

"For once, I agree with Damon," Matt said.

"Okay," Caroline continued with wide eyes and lifted eyebrows. "Well, Matt, you have to check on that. On to part two: Katherine's missing. How do we find her?"

Jeremy raised his hand. "She's still in Elena's body, which means we're still related. So, you can use my blood in a tracking spell."

Bonnie nodded confirmation. "We'll just have to find a witch to do it."

"Wait, what happened to Liv?" Caroline cut in.

"She's unreliable," Bonnie said with a roll of her eyes.

"Bonnie couldn't find her," Jeremy elaborated.

"I bet if Jeremy called her she'd pop right back up... But in the meantime, I could try calling my cousin, Lucy," Bonnie suggested.

"Okay, great. Bonnie, Jeremy, you're on locator spell duty, then."

"Three and four are the Travelers being after the doppelgangers, so, I guess that's on me," Stefan tilted his head. "I'll look into it, see if I can find any Traveler lore that explains what they want and why it's so dangerous to us."

"And five is sitting in the cell next to the wine cellar. Hey, Blondie, could you pass me the '82 Cab?" Damon cut in.

Caroline glared at him. "Tyler, you'll need to stay here and guard him." He nodded his assent, and she continued. "I'll work on tracking down Maxfield and getting a cure for the virus."

"I'm with Gorgeous," Enzo volunteered.

She shot him a glare. "Seriously, I don't need your help with this, Enzo."

"You do know you'll have to threaten, possibly maim and murder, the good doctor, don't you?"

"I'm a vampire. I can _threaten_ people."

He gave her a wide grin. "You're like a perky blonde angel of death." He waited a beat, then added, "You almost had me convinced."

Tyler's teeth audibly ground together.

"Why do you want to help, anyway?"

"For the same reason you do. I want this vampire feeding virus out of our lives."

"Why? You want your killing buddy back? Is killing innocent people not as much fun when you're alone?"

"Right. Damon did mention that you get a little judgy."

"God, please just snap my neck if you're going to keep flirting with her like that," Damon groaned from inside the cell, knocking his head against the bars on the window.

"Shut up, Damon," Caroline snapped. She turned back to the rest of the group and snapped her fingers. "Okay, you all have your assignments. Hop to it!"

Stefan gave her a half-hearted salute while Jeremy rolled his eyes, but everyone else simply turned and walked back up the stairs to the main room of the mansion.

Caroline turned back to find Enzo shamelessly checking her out. She scoffed. "Seriously, no, I already have one obsessive British psycho on my plate. Spot's taken! Sorry."

"Oh, I've got competition? Good to know, Gorgeous."

"Oh, my God." She huffed as she stalked out of the cellar and up the stairs.

* * *

Finding Wes Maxfield was not an easy task. Caroline and Enzo decided to go back to Richmond, where Enzo had last seen him setting up a lab. She decided halfway there that he was only coming along for the ride so that he could harass her. Her answers to his frequent questions were slowly getting sharper and snappier.

"Tell me, why _does _Damon think I'm your type?"

"Maybe because Damon is certifiable."

"That is one of the reasons I like him so much, Gorgeous. But he also doesn't usually say things for no reason."

"I'm pretty sure he actually does. Or maybe the reason is just that he likes the sound of his own voice."

"So there's no dark past between you and a murderous hybrid who happens to have a British accent?"

She pointedly turned up the radio. He laughed.

"Music these days is so… peppy," he eventually mused.

She sighed and decided to make an effort to actually be friendly - or at least less hostile. "Would you prefer something else? You were turned… when, exactly?"

"1903. I had consumption. I'd paid for a ticket to New York, trying to get on the ship to see the doctor. A woman helped me get on board after my ticket was refused on account of my illness, but the doctor said there was nothing he could do. I was a dead man walking."

"So you died from consumption?"

"Yes. Lillian, the woman, gave me her blood, and… the rest is history, I suppose."

"What happened to her?"

"Who, Lillian? I've no idea. She gave me her blood, asked me to join her family, but when I awoke, I was alone in hospital. There was no one left alive on the ship, save the doctor. He came in and offered me his blood. He'd been compelled by Lillian, but she had disappeared."

Caroline was silent for a moment as she absorbed his story. "For what it's worth, I know what it feels like. To transition alone like that."

He shot her a suspicious look. "You do?"

"Yeah. I was in a car accident. Tyler… well. I had a bad injury. They thought I was going to die, so Damon gave me some of his blood. Everyone thought I would be safe in the hospital, and it would be out of my system before I was released. But Katherine showed up and smothered me in my bed. I was _so_ confused, I thought it was Elena at first - no one had clued me in to the supernatural goings-on in town." She rolled her eyes. "I woke up alone, with all of these compelled memories flooding back… It was awful."

"Did she leave a doctor for you to feed on, too?"

"Nope. First sip was from a blood bag."

"How appropriate, given what Damon told me about your feeding habits."

She chuckled. "Yeah, I guess it was. But I thought I was going crazy, until all of my memories returned."

"What do you mean by that?"

"By what?"

"Compelled memories returning?"

"Transitioning overrides compulsion. When you transition, any memories that have been compelled away are returned."

"So what had been compelled away from you?"

Caroline scoffed and let the bitterness creep back into her tone. "I'm surprised Damon didn't tell you all about that, too."

"Damon compelled you?"

"Uh, yeah! When he first got to town, he _dated_ me! He made me forget all the times he fed on me, and made me pretend to not be afraid of him. I had to take him as my date to all of the town events, throw parties for him, be his minion…"

"He compelled you to date him?" His face was twisted into rage and horror.

"Yeah, it sucked. No pun intended."

"Did he…" Enzo couldn't verbalize the question, but grimaced.

"What? Did he sleep with me?"

He winced and nodded.

"Yep," she confirmed popping the 'p'.

Enzo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "No wonder the two of you don't get on."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Understatement of the century," she murmured.

Thankfully, the rest of the ride to the defunct hospital in Richmond was fairly quiet. Once they arrived, Enzo described the layout to Caroline and explained where he'd found Maxfield's lab the last time he'd been there.

"I thought you were only here once. How do you remember all of this?"

"I was a soldier, gorgeous. Tactical training."

She rolled her eyes, but listened to his advice. They stalked quietly down the darkened hallways of the building, staying together to present a united front in case of an attack.

"What do we do if Doctor Creepenstein is here?" she hissed.

"The real problem will be if he isn't here," Enzo intoned, shooting her a serious look.

She waved the problem away. "If he's not, we'll have to get something of his to use in a locator spell. Blood would be best, but Bonnie said we could use a personal object if necessary."

He nodded sharply, and they continued their investigation.

After exploring the entire first floor, they moved on to the second. Enzo gestured for her to keep quiet, as this was where he'd run into the doctor on his trip with Damon. However, they didn't find the man on that floor either. The only thing they'd found was the headless body of the vampire Damon had fed on after being injected.

"Poor bloke." Enzo nudged the lifeless body with his toe.

"We should probably bury him," Caroline suggested.

Enzo looked at her with an eyebrow cocked. "Do you have a shovel on you?"

"Well, no," she admitted.

"Then I think he's staying here."

She grumbled about him being less accommodating than her previous suitor, but he merely rolled his eyes in reply.

They continued on their search, looking for anything Maxfield had left behind. As Enzo explored the adjacent labs, Caroline searched the one with the body for any notes left behind. The tables were wiped clean, and the desk drawers were empty. But the tall storage cabinet in the corner was locked.

She jiggled the right handle, and then the left. "Seriously," she murmured, applying her vampire strength and wrenching the handles to open the doors. She shrieked as they swung open. A different dead body fell out, landing right on top of her.

Enzo whooshed to her side, pushing the body off of her and pulling her to her feet.

"Sorry," she said, breathlessly. "I just wasn't expecting…" Caroline gestured to the lifeless corpse on the floor.

"Understandable." He was examining the body thoughtfully. "Do you reckon this is a trap?"

"What do you mean? He's dead. How can it be a trap?"

Enzo looked at her seriously. "We're two vampires who were given blood and then abandoned to transition alone. I should think it obvious that he might not be permanently dead."

Caroline looked back at the corpse sharply and smoothed her hair back. "Okay, good point." She examined the body as much as she could, but there wasn't much she could tell. The guy - whoever it was - looked like a college student, with sandy brown hair. "Well, how do we know?"

Her companion sighed before grabbing the body under the shoulders. "Help me lock him up. If he _is_ in transition, we don't want to find out by being caught unawares."

The dragged him over towards where the dessicated vampire corpse was and heaved him up, fastening the chains around his wrists. The entire time, Enzo was lecturing her. "Do you notice that the corpse doesn't smell? I would normally say that indicates that it's a fresh kill, but with him being locked in the cupboard over there, I would think it's more likely that he's transitioning."

"Doesn't that mean Maxfield's close by? It only takes a couple hours to come out of it, usually."

"I would say that entirely depends on how the fellow died. I mean, yes, transitioning after death only takes hours, but we have to account for the fact that he could have been _alive_ when Maxfield put him in there. So, it could have taken him hours, or even days, for him to die."

"Well it can't have been _days_. The vampire blood would be out of the guy's system by then."

A choked inhale preempted Enzo's original reply and he gave Caroline a pointed look. "See? What's that phrase? Ah, I told you so."

"What - what's happening?" The new vampire - potential new vampire - was staring at Caroline and Enzo in mixed confusion and horror.

"Okay, try to stay calm," Caroline placated him, her hands held out in supplication. "My name's Caroline. What's yours?"

"Mike. I'm Mike. Why am I locked up? What - what happened? Where's the doctor?"

Enzo stepped forward. "I'm Enzo. You're locked up because there's a chance you're dangerous, but we're not sure yet. We don't know what happened, or where Maxfield is, but we're looking for him, too."

"Dangerous? How could I be dangerous?"

Caroline and Enzo exchanged a look. "How much do you know about the things that go bump in the night?" He asked, sending a weighted gaze towards Mike.

* * *

Stefan had only been up in the library for a few minutes when he heard raised voices coming from the basement.

"Let me guess," Damon drawled, "there's a masochistic voice in your head telling you that you and Carebear can work things out, even after she had a roll in the pine needles with the guy who killed your mom, right?"

The door to the cell slammed open. "Oh, because you think Elena's going to take _you_ back after the crap you pulled when you thought she broke up with you?"

He groaned and ran to the basement, grabbing Tyler by the back of his shirt and pulling him backwards just as Damon lunged for the hybrid, his fangs dropping and face darkening.

"Don't let him goad you," he chastised Tyler, shooting Damon a look of disdain.

"Ahh, brother. Good of you to join us." He smirked. "Don't you think it's about time for my next snack?"

Stefan sighed. "No, definitely not. And since you two can't behave yourself, I think it's time that we all got to work on something else." He dropped the notebook he'd been reading at Damon's feet.

"Stef. How is your diary supposed to help us figure out any of this?"

"It's not one of my journals. It's one of Isobel's. She was obsessed with tracing her lineage, and she thought she was somehow related to Katherine. Which means that she was researching Travelers, even if she didn't know it. That's what I'm trying to figure out, and you have all of Ric's old research in your closet. So start reading, brother."

"Wait, who's Isobel?" Tyler's brow was furrowed in confusion.

"Elena's birth mother," Damon snapped. "And Alaric's dead vampire ex-wife. Keep up." He had picked up the book and was holding it gingerly, staring at it. "Sorry, buddy," he mumbled softly before heaving a sigh and opening it.

"What?" Tyler was clearly still confused.

Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose. "It… this was a long time ago. But she was a professor at Duke, and Ric had her research, and he left all of _his_ stuff to Damon when he died, so…"

"So now we have a library of occult research collected by two dead teachers, one of whom was Damon's best friend, and the other was Elena's birth mother?"

"The wolf-boy can listen. Give him a Milkbone, Stef."

Tyler rolled his eyes dramatically, but the brothers ignored him.

"I'll go grab a couple of the other notebooks. We can go through them together. Hopefully it'll keep the two of you from killing each other. Okay?" He clapped Tyler on the shoulder and stalked up the stairs.

Thankfully, when he returned, Damon and Tyler had gone back to ignoring each other. Damon didn't even look up from the journal he was reading. Stefan handed a second to Tyler, keeping the third for himself, and quickly lost himself in the notes.

After a while, Damon threw his notebook to the ground. "There's a different book we need, Stefan. These aren't going to tell us anything new."

"I didn't see any other books in your closet, Damon."

"It's not in my closet. I needed to keep it somewhere safe, so I hid it away. Elsewhere." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Where is 'elsewhere', dick?" Tyler challenged.

"Let me think. Where would I hide a book?" Damon pressed a finger to his chin, pursing his lips.

Stefan closed his eyes and released a sigh. "It's in the library, isn't it?"

"Ding ding ding! Hidden in the library of Mystic Falls High."

"You didn't even hide it in _our_ library?"

"After the moonstone debacle? No way. I learned my lesson."

"What moonstone debacle?" Tyler questioned.

"Long story," Damon groaned.

"It always is," Tyler replied.

"The book?" Stefan pressed.

"It's about the Petrova family. Their history. It's the one I gave Elena after our trip down to Duke with Ric, way back when."

Stefan turned towards the stairs. "Tyler, stay here and watch him. I'll be back when I get the book."

* * *

Bonnie opened her messages and saw that Matt had responded to her group chat.

BB: Updates?

Matt: nothing good

Stefan: On my way to MFHS to get a book. Damon says it's got information on the Petrovas.

BB: What's not good?

Matt: the knifes gone

Stefan: What do you mean, gone?

Matt: its missing from where i hid it idk where it is now

BB: I can't find Liv either

BB: Still

Stefan: Matt, where are you?

Matt: tys place.

Stefan: Stay there, I'll be right over.

Stefan: Bonnie, any luck getting in touch with Lucy?

BB: Yeah she said she could be here in a few hours

BB: Is it even worth it if we don't have the knife?

Matt: maybe she could do a locator spell for the knife? does that work?

BB: Umm

BB: I don't see why not

BB: We can ask I guess

Stefan: Matt, come let me in.

* * *

"So you want to search the house, and you want me to go to the high school and find some book on Katherine's family?"

"Pretty much," he raised his eyebrows and gestured towards the door. "Come on, Matt. I know how Katherine thinks. If she left the knife here, I'll be able to find it."

"Fine," Matt groaned, pushing the door wide for Stefan to enter. "I'll head to the school library. Any clue where Damon hid this book?"

"None whatsoever."

"Great. Let me know if you find anything here."

"Yeah. Will do."

After spending the rest of the day searching the Lockwood mansion from top to bottom, Stefan eventually gave up. If Katherine had hidden the knife, she hadn't hidden it anywhere in the house. He made his way back to the boarding house, hoping all the while that Damon had been right about there being something useful in the other book.

The house was eerily silent when he got back. There wasn't even the sound of Damon and Tyler's bickering to greet him. "Matt?" he called, not really expecting a response. "Tyler? Damon?"

Stefan ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Somehow, even before he saw the cell, he knew.

"Dammit," he murmured. Tyler and Matt were lying on the floor, both with broken necks. Damon was gone.


End file.
